The price of sin, the price of redemption
by Lakritzwolf
Summary: Instead of getting himself killed, James Norringon decides to flee with Elizabeth from the Dutchman. And then things happen that he could not possibly have foreseen. There is a price for sin, but there is also a price for redemption. James N./Anamaria
1. Chapter 1

**Welcome to my first attempt at a Norrington-Fanfic. Go easy on me, folks! And yes, I might have developed an issue about "The pirate girl and the gentleman". Beats me where from. **

**Set in an alternate DMC/AWE. And I hereby utter my protest at the lamentable absence of Anamaria in either of those films. She was just too good to have only that short appearance! In my oppinion.**

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**Chapter 1**

Things could have been so easy, on first sight. But then, he thought, when had things ever been easy after that thrice cursed pirate Sparrow had come into his life?

Sparrow was, after all, the reason for him being here tonight, on board a pirate vessel, still smelling faintly of pig, unshaven, dirty, shamed and disgraced.

"_This must be the best pirate I've ever heard of!"  
"So it would seem."  
_

Maybe he shouldn't have let the pirate escape. Maybe he shouldn't have given him the head start. Maybe…  
And maybe, it was only his own incapacity that had made him lose everything in the vain pursuit that followed. Maybe he should not blame his own failures on the pirate, as tempting as it was.

"_As is mine."  
"So this is where your heart truly lies?"  
_

With a sigh, James stared across the railing as he tightened the rope. When had any man ever made such a fool of himself?  
"Maybe ye should have a shave, mate."  
He turned his head to see who had spoken.  
"Ye look so much like a billy goat with that shaggy rat nest in yer face ye even smell like one", Anamaria said with a faint sneer of disdain. "But then, it could be pig, as well."  
"Probably both", James replied, inwardly cringing in shame. To be looked down upon even by pirates…

"She surely must like ye", he heard Sparrow's voice behind him after she had disappeared.  
"Oh, I hadn't noticed", James said through jaws he tried to unclench for speaking. "What makes you think so?"  
"If she wouldn't, she wouldn't bother talking to ye", the pirate replied with a grin and sauntered off, leaving James to stare at his back.  
"And why would she?", James couldn't help but ask.  
Sparrow cast him a look over his shoulder. "Probably pity."

**x-x-x-x-x**

Those memories and past wrongs were behind him now. Or so he had thought. With the heart and the letter of marque he had been able to restore himself and his honour, and regain his standing and his rank. Even his scorned and betrayed love had mercifully faded into hardly more than a memory now.

Even his sword.

Occasionally, he still asked himself if it had been the right thing to do to let the pirate escape. But his definition, his view of what was right was becoming more than a little strained lately.

Because there was right.  
And then there was lawful.

It surely was lawful to hang pirates. It was surely lawful to hang those associated with piracy.  
But for all that was worth, his own soul knew beyond his ability to deny it that it was not right to hang mothers and children.

Was this the honour he had fought so hard to regain? To rise in the ranks of killers of children? There surely were ways to save them, give them worthwhile lives? But instead, their young lives were taken just because they had been born in the wrong town, to the wrong mother, at the wrong time…

James Norrington had never known anything else in his life than following his orders and doing his duty. There was nothing else.  
And yet, he could not turn his heart into stone, he could not turn his soul into ashes like the man he once so admired and that he now blandly despised.

And so, while his first decision to leave the navy was a step taken out of a feeling of duty and honour, his second one was taken in the desperate attempt to save the sanity of his soul and the ability to ever be able to sleep again.  
He did not resign. No one suspected anything, and the chance presented itself when Elizabeth asked him to come with her as he helped them escape from the Flying Dutchman. He thought for a moment, but his mind had been made up long since. Telling her and her men to hurry, he made sure no one had noticed them before he himself reached for the rope which he then cut before he was halfway over, thus ensuring no one could follow them.  
But as soon as they had reached the Empress, he asked to be transferred to the Black Pearl. Elizabeth did not question his decision not to sail under her own command.

Once he was aboard the Pearl, Sparrow shot him a mildly amused glance. "What brings us the pleasure of your company, Admiral?"  
"Pleasure has little to do with it, Captain. And it would be Mr Norrington, if anything. You see I am not wearing any kind of uniform."  
"Aye, I noticed that." Sparrow tapped his chin with his forefinger. "And the reason for that?"  
James tried to straighten up. "I cannot be longer part of them, Captain Sparrow. If you take me into your crew, I shall gladly sail under your command, and if not, then as gladly will I accept to be shot by you or walk the plank."  
"Turncoat", Jack Sparrow said without moving his face. "Deserter."  
"Yes."  
"Traitor."  
James only shrugged.  
Then Sparrow grinned. "Welcome aboard. I've taken on worse men."  
"This is as good as it gets, I suppose", James gave back stiffly and Jack grinned.

He mixed with the crew who, in turn, only eyed him suspiciously.

**x-x-x-x-x**

"I was wrong."  
He spun around, looking into the face of Anamaria. "Beg pardon?"  
She smiled. "Ye don't look better when ye've shaved. But ye smell better, at least."  
"Well, no one is perfect, I suppose", James replied somewhat stiffly and she chuckled.

But after a few seconds her face became serious again and she looked past him for a while before shifting her eyes on his face again. "You have seen the hangings."  
"I have. And it is something I seriously wish I could forget."  
She tilted her head. "That's why you're here."  
"Yes."  
This time she shrugged. "I knew ye weren't that much of a hancock, Jimmy."  
James, feeling his face burn, watched her go. For a moment there, she had looked almost friendly upon him, only to pour disdain over him by the bucket load again.

During the next few days the crew started slowly to accept him, and he tried his best not to shy away from any kind of work.  
Within a short while, he was as dirty and messed up as any of them, his shirt no longer white, his boots no longer shiny, his nails no longer clean.  
All this wasn't giving him any trouble. It was the blisters on his hands that did.

One night he sat on deck, contemplating his raw and bleeding palms, and in turn, what had become of him, when someone stepped up to him and lowered themselves down beside him.

"Rope burns, Jimmy?"  
He looked up. He had kept out of Anamaria's way, just to avoid her acidic remarks, but she had probably just been hatching a few more during the time.  
But her eyes were not filled with mischief.  
"I will have to get used to that", was all he wanted to reply.  
"Let me have a look."  
With a shrug, he let her have his hands. To his surprise, she looked at his hands with a worried frown, touching him very gently. Then she produced a little tin of salve from a pocket and started applying the substance on his palms.

"Thank you", he said when she was done.  
She got up again but smiled down at him. "Keep the rest. Ye'll most likely need it again with that baby's arse skin of yours."  
This time, he was sure she was doing it on purpose. Only what purpose, he could not guess.

**x-x-x-x-x**

When they finally reached Shipwreck's Cove, he found himself a dark and musty tavern where drinks where cheap and spend some of what remained of his meagre funds on two bottles of rum.

"I see ye finally weaned yourself."

Was that woman following him? He squinted up at her, realising her features were slightly blurred which probably had to do with the fact that the first of his two bottles was already empty. Which also accounted for the fact that he was finally able to speak his mind. The gentleman had somehow not survived the last weeks and that first bottle, the contents of which were now sloshing through his mind and body.

"Leave me alone, you vile-tongued witch."  
And she laughed! She threw her head back and laughed, and simply sat down next to him. "I see you've also found your spirits."  
He squinted at the bottle. "They just don't last very long."  
The dark pirate chuckled as she opened his second bottle to help herself to a sip.  
"Especially with uninvited guests. I asked you to leave me alone."  
"Oh come on, Jimmy. Under no circumstances you would find yer way back to the ship after that much drink, you hapless puppy."  
"I've had quite enough of your insults." He took the bottle form her hands and got up. "For the last time, leave me alone."

He didn't care which way the ship was or where he was going.  
"Jimmy!"  
As long as he would only be able to get rid of her! "Leave me alone!", he snapped.  
"Jimmy…"  
"That is not my name." He thrust out a finger at her. "And I told you… to keep away from me!" He was already swaying with drunkenness and hadn't even 

started on the second bottle.

"Jimmy…" She cautiously stepped a little closer. "I'm sorry, I seem to have gone too far."  
"You, woman, have been going too far long since." Then he blinked. "You already have gone too far long before this."  
"You're awfully drunk, Jimmy."  
"I do not need your viperous mouth to tell me that."  
"Listen, I am sorry, really…" She stepped somewhat closer.  
"Go away."  
"I won't."  
"Why?"  
"Because I'm sorry and I want…"  
"To make an even bigger fool of me than I already have done", James said. "No thank you."  
"Jimmy, listen…"  
"That is not my name!", he barked and Anamaria took another step forward.  
"Sorry, I'm sorry. Please?"  
He drew himself up. "Please what?"  
"Please, I want to make up…"  
"And how would… you do… that…" He trailed off helplessly as she reached out to touch his cheeks and pulled his face a little forward.

He was sure that this time, it was not only the rum that made his world spin.

She leaned back after a while, smiling and breathless. "I never thought you could kiss like that", she whispered.  
"Neither did I", James gave back, mildly surprised by himself. "Can I try that again?"  
She giggled but closed her eyes and James leaned forward again. She sighed as he placed a few kisses on her cheek and below her ear.  
"Jimmy, I have a room right over there in that little tavern, with a bed all for myself. Doesn't that sound sad?"  
James leaned back. "And why is that sad?"  
She smiled at him under half closed lids. "Because I would hate to sleep alone tonight."  
"I see."

He followed her into his room, wondering briefly where his resentment had gone, but maybe that was the rum's fault, too. Maybe not the rum. Maybe not entirely. Sitting on the bed, as there was no other seating facility, they shared the second bottle.

Anamaria pushed him down onto his back after dropping the empty bottle. "I do like you a lot, Jimmy." She let herself fall down beside him.  
"And I tell you what", James replied. "I shall allow you to call me Jimmy."  
"Will you?" She laughed softly and he leaned over her.  
"Yes. Under one condition."  
"That being?" She traced the outline of his face with her finger.  
"That you call me James whenever I should make love to you."  
She dug her fingers into the folds of his shirt. "It's a deal, James", she whispered and pulled him down on top of her.

Maybe life as a pirate wouldn't be all that bad, he thought, and stopped thinking shortly after that.


	2. Chapter 2

**WARNING: Character Death  
**

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**Chapter 2**

It was before dawn when James awoke with a terrible hangover and the feeling of disorientation. He was in a bed, in a room he had no memory of going into…  
And someone was lying beside him, in his arms. With a slight feeling of horror, he cautiously turned his head to look at the face of the woman beside him

She was still asleep, contentedly curled up against him, her head resting on his shoulder. After watching her for a few seconds, memories began, if hesitatingly, to flow back.

Rightfully, he should be angry, at himself if not at her for letting himself be used yet again. Rightfully… But it wasn't as if she had had to use any force to get him into her bed, now, had she? He almost smiled.  
But what still puzzled him was how fast his feelings had swung around, as had, seemingly, hers. Spitting venom at him one moment, kissing him the next. What was really going on behind her eyes?

And behind his own? Why was he so contend at lying with a pirate? He who had all his life strived to be…  
He frowned. He had made his choice and changed his life forever beyond any means of turning back the day he had left the Dutchman with Elizabeth. He had become a pirate. And thus ended up here, with this woman in his arms. And was that a bad thing? He wasn't too sure yet…

"Jimmy…"  
He turned his head again to see her looking at him. "Yes?"  
"You're thinking so loud you woke me up. What's wrong?"  
"I was…" How to put it?" "I was wondering where this would lead."  
"What?" Anamaria lifted her head and propped herself up on one elbow.  
"This." He cleared his throat. "Us."  
At this, she smiled. "Anywhere we want to, Jimmy."  
James found he had to return that smile. "Well, as long as that's settled then…"  
"Jimmy?"  
"Yes?"  
"You know that when the sun goes up, we'll be going to war?"  
He frowned. "I didn't know that, no."  
"The court decided that yesterday. You didn't hear it?"  
"No. I was too busy trying to get drunk."

Anamaria chuckled. "I noticed that."  
"So whom is it we are going to war against?"  
"Them. The Trading company, the navy."  
James blinked. "This is madness… it is suicide! You… we… cannot win…" He trailed off and rallied himself with a deep breath. "Their fleet is too strong in numbers and weapons. No one can stand against that fleet and win."  
Anamaria swallowed. "There is no other way. We can either be killed here or killed fighting. And I'd rather die fighting than by a rope. There is a chance, Jimmy. There's always a chance."  
"There might be", he replied. "But I doubt it."

She fell silent for a while. "Jimmy ", she said then.  
"Yes?"  
"There's not much time left until sunrise."  
He glanced out of the window. "No." Then he looked at Anamaria's face again. "Do you think it would be worth pretending that there is?"  
"Yes." She smiled. "Kiss me, James."  
He kissed her.

**x-x-x-x-x  
**

With sunrise, the bells on every ship called their crews to gather. Among the screaming, cursing masses of pirates getting ready for war, Anamaria and James made their way for the Pearl in silence. Ships were loaded with weapons, gunpowder, cannonballs. Flags were flown high, and somewhere, some mad idiot played the bagpipes.

The two of them stopped shortly before they reached their ship.  
"Anamaria", James said and she looked up at him. "One of us, or maybe both of us, likely won't live to see the end of the day. I'd still…"  
"Don't talk like that!"  
James shook his head. "I still want you to know that I do not regret what happened last night."  
Anamaria stared up at him and swallowed, then took a deep breath. "Neither do I. I just wish it had happened sooner."  
James took her hand and squeezed it gently, and they exchanged a long look before letting go and boarding the Pearl.

**x-x-x-x-x**

Anamaria knew from the first moment that James had been right. There was no chance against such a fleet. Yet even though, they would fight. Rather be killed in a fight than die at the end of a rope.

Yet presently, it looked more as if they were going to die in the maw of the maelstrom trying to swallow the Pearl and the Flying Dutchman both. She had given up on fighting and clung to the rigging, pulling and securing ropes in the desperate attempt to try and help the ship get through.

During a moment where the ship hung still, she tried to catch back her breath and turned around to look across the deck and the fighting going on there. She spotted James, fighting two adversaries at once, and marvelled at his skill with the blade. Seemingly effortless he fought them both, held one off and killed the other, and didn't even seem seriously short of breath as he faced the second man, a bulky, huge creature from Davy Jones' crew.

That man however, disregarding his own safety, managed to push James back for a few steps until he bumped into the railing.  
But even as Anamaria pulled her own sabre to come to his aid, the brute that James was fighting had pressed him bodily against the railing, trying to strangle him with one hand while holding James' sword arm off with the other.

Anamaria had only taken two steps before the creature had managed to increase the pressure on James's wrist and made him lose his weapon. She froze on the spot, helplessly watching as it then grabbed his belt and, with hardly any effort, toppled James over the railing and pushed him down.

She couldn't even think. She just broke into a run, grabbed James' fallen sword and attacked the creature with two blades, making it grunt in surprise with the viciousness of her attack. He parried, breaking her own blade, but in this second she had managed to duck under his arm and rammed James' blade deep into the creature's lower chest. He grunted, spat out blood and stumbled back, the blade still between his ribs, before slowly falling over, his body hitting the deck with a thud.

Anamaria slowly pulled James' sword free of the body and took a few steps back until she stumbled into a chest. Letting herself all down unceremoniously, she stared at the blade on her lap without feeling anything apart from the fact she was cold. The rain was washing strands of her hair into her eyes, but she didn't move to wipe them away.

She didn't look up, neither when the maelstrom suddenly collapsed nor when the Pearl and the Flying Dutchman destroyed the flagship of the Trading Company. She didn't pay the jubilating, cheering crew any attention.

Someone sat down next to her.  
"Lost a friend?"  
She looked up and saw Gibbs, giving her a concerned, friendly smile. With a shrug, she looked down again and nodded. He extended his flask to her and she took it, helping herself to a generous swig.

"I killed the man who killed him."  
"I'm sure he would've liked that."  
"With his own blade."  
"He would've liked that even more, I gather."  
"And I gather he would have liked it even more hadn't he been thrown overboard in the maelstrom", Anamaria snapped back.  
"Oh." Only then did Gibbs realise that the sword she was holding was looking somewhat familiar. "That's… Norrington's sword."  
"Aye."  
"You two didn't used to get on so well wi' each other…"  
"No. Not to start with."  
"Oh." Gibbs scratched his chin. "Got along better later on?"  
"Yes."  
"Oh. When did that happen?"  
"Last night."

The bottle wordlessly appeared in her view again and she took another swig.

After a while, Gibbs followed her eyes, she was staring at the railing. "Shame."  
Anamaria just shrugged.  
They sat in silence for a while, staring at the railing and the blue sky beyond.

A hand suddenly appeared on the railing. Gibbs blinked. Anamaria froze. The hand grabbed the railing, an arm appeared, and the two exchanged a wide-eyed look before jumping off the crate and rushing over to the railing.

Gibbs grabbed the man's shirt to help pull him over, and when he hit the deck, rolling on his back, they saw it was indeed James Norrington.  
"Mary, mother of god", Gibbs breathed. "That lucky bastard. Must have been able to grab a lose rope."  
The rope in question was still slung around James' left forearm, cut deeply into the flesh, his skin scraped raw and his hand swollen. But he was alive, and otherwise unharmed, if a bit shaken.

Anamaria unfroze herself and kneeled beside him to support his upper body.  
"James? You all right?"  
"I am in once piece, if you mean that", he replied, his voice strained. "All right is maybe putting it a bit strong."  
Gibbs helped her to shift him so his body was resting against the railing, to enable her to free him of the rope. He then left after handing his flask over to Anamaria.

Still kneeling beside him she helped James drink a few sips. "James? How do you feel?"  
James looked at her. "Shaken to the very core of my soul." Then he closed his eyes. "You have an amazing amount of time to think when you are hanging above the abyss of death from a thread."  
Anamaria smoothed a few strand of hair back from his face and he looked up at her again.  
"It reminds you of the frailty of life", he said slowly. "And puts into perspective things that you have achieved…. and haven't. Especially it puts into perspective things worth… or not worth achieving."  
"James?"  
He smiled a small smile. "No more Jimmy?"  
"I…"  
"Anamaria", he said, reaching for her hand. "I should be very glad if you could just sit here with me for a while."  
Smiling in return, she lowered herself down beside him and leaned against him while their fingers slowly entwined.

"I'm sorry I was so awful to you", Anamaria said after a while.  
"Are you?"  
"Yes."  
"Well... I thought as much." James smiled. "But allow me to ask where the change of attitude was coming from?"  
She shifted uncomfortably. "I… I felt so… attracted to you and didn't want to. I thought if I was nasty to you, you'd be nasty to me and then…"  
"Which I refused to be."  
"Not before it was too late."  
"That would have been last night when you sought me out, I presume."  
"It was."  
"Too late for what?"  
After a few seconds, Anamaria lifted her head to look at him. "Losing my heart." Then she avoided his eyes.

"Isn't it funny, in a strange way…", James began after a while. "…how you so laboriously avoid making the same mistake twice, ending up being so vulnerable again, and in the end, end up straight where you never more wanted to be?"  
Anamaria looked up again. "Who betrayed you?"  
James waved this aside. "Long past and done with", was all he said. "But here we are, aren't we. I think this is what makes us human."  
"What? Acting like moths around a candle flame when falling in love?"  
James leaned forward to seek and hold her eyes, a smile on his lips. "So it would seem", he said before kissing her.

**x-x-x-x-x**

Short of an alternative, James stayed aboard the Black Pearl as a crew member of Captain Jack Sparrow and no one minded him any more or less than any other man of the crew. For some reason, Commodore had stuck as a sort of reverential nickname. Apart from Anamaria, no one called him James any more.

By now, he realised, he was looking very much forward to the shore leave in Tortuga, as a ship leaves little room for privacy, and only awkward moments, snatched in passing in some dark corner, had been granted to them for the occasional hasty kiss. Not that they were trying to hide it. There was just no privacy.

But still, being thus preoccupied, he didn't fail to notice the strange atmosphere on deck.  
Jack was absent, so was Gibbs. Most of the crew was about to leave the ship, yet Barbossa was standing amidst the men, talking to them. James came closer to listen.

"And I tell you that without him, our chances are better. And this time, there's nothing that can go wrong, for I have the chart right here!" He held up the rolled up chart

James pressed his lips together, thinking fast. Mutiny. And the way the men looked, they were giving it some thought.

Barbossa grinned."All you have to do is set sail now, and there's nothing to stop us!"  
"I don't think so." James stepped towards him, one hand on the hilt of his sword.  
"Oh, the Commodore." Barbossa tipped his hat. "And what might your words in this matter be?"  
"That this is a mutiny. And I owe too much to Captain Sparrow to just let this happen."  
"Oh, is that so." Barbossa stowed the chart away in his belt. "And what would you do about it?"  
"Whatever is necessary."

Barbossa looked at him, up and down, and smirked when he saw James' hand tighten around the hilt of his sword. "Whatever is necessary, Commodore." He pulled his own.  
James unsheathed his sword and held it out before him  
"The winner will get command over the ship", Barbossa said, slowly trailing the tip of his sword in a circle.  
"Agreed."  
"And the loser?"  
James smiled thinly. "Will most likely be dead."  
Barbossa grinned broadly. "Agreed."

James took a step forward and their blades met. It was a fight that would be remembered by the crew for years to come.  
It seemed outright unfair. Barbossa moved easily, with the grace of years of practise, yet James Norrington, while by no means a mean swordsman, didn't seem to be a match for him. He made awkward mistakes. He overreached. He even stumbled a few times while making mistakes in his footwork.

Anamaria watched the fight anxiously and confused. This was not the man she had seen fight off two enemies at one time with such ease during the battle a few days ago. Was it possible he was still that exhausted from his fall? He had not seemed so before…

Barbossa's smile slowly widened as the fight wore on. He himself was hardly getting warm, yet his opponent was breathing heavily and making clumsy, hasty steps. And finally, there was an opening in his defences and Barbossa stepped forth…

…only to find James gone from his view with one spinning movement. And his blade sticking out of his belly.

Barbossa stared at James who pulled his sword out of his guts again and saluted smartly, breathing calmly. He had only feigned his tiredness and clumsiness, and Barbossa had fallen for the ruse.  
Eve while his sword hit the deck with a clatter, he managed one last grin. "Well deceived, Commodore. Best pirate material I've seen in a long time."  
James stared silently down at his former opponent and slowly sheathed his sword again as Barbossa's body hit the planks. "So it would seem", he said then without a trace of emotion in his face.

"What by the devil's hairy backside is going on here?"  
Every pair of eyes on deck moved towards the gangplank where Jack had appeared, a whore in each arm. He frowned, looked around, and finally spotted the body of his former mutinous first mate.

"He was about to instigate a mutiny, Captain", James said.  
Jack stared at him with blank incomprehension for a few seconds, then a slow grind spread on his face. "Was he now?" He let go of the whores. "And I guess I owe it to you that my ship is still here and not somewhere…" He made an indecisive movement towards the horizon. "…there."  
"So it would seem." James could not help his voice sounding the tiniest bit smug.

"It seems…", Jack said and amicably draped an arm around James' shoulder, "… that I owe you quite a lot, my dear Commodore." He flashed him a grin. "And seeing that this would need a handsome reward, how about, as the situation would demand a solution that pleases especially me, to reward the man I owe such a lot to with a position he could hardly reject?"  
"That being?"  
Jack grinned even broader. "I'll be in need of a first mate, Commodore."  
James blinked. "But I thought Mr Gibbs…"  
"Aye", Gibbs said from somewhere behind. "But only so long as there was naught better!"

A few people sniggered.

"James Norrington", Jack said. "As my first mate, you'd not only hav a larger share in the bounty, but also other advantages over a normal crewman." He winked. "Namely, a cabin."  
James cocked one eyebrow. "A cabin."  
Jack's grin broadened. "Aye, a cabin. And as for me, I can use a man who knows his worth, who I skilled with a blade and knows how to deal with a crew like that." He held out his hand. "Do we have an accord?"  
James looked around, at the crew, the ship, at Gibbs who nodded eagerly, and at Anamaria who just crossed her arms, a tiny smile on her face. Then he turned back to Jack and took his hand.

"Aye Captain, we have an accord."  
They shook hands. "My pleasure to have you on board, Commodore."

James nodded thoughtfully, but with a smile. So this is where his heart truly lay. But the way it seemed, it had been the best choice he ever made, he thought as he stared at the horizon and felt Anamaria step in beside him.


End file.
